Lords of The Castles
by Lixciaa
Summary: Upon hearing that the Superior wanted him in his office, it was not a surprise. Of course he would call Marluxia for a quick chat; Castle Oblivion was not even about a week away, Xemnas wasn't just going to give him the reins to leadership without consulting him first. Just to make sure things don't mix up between here and there. Marluxia thinks, anyway. Xemnas/Marluxia, rated M


Upon hearing that the Superior wanted him in his office, it was not a surprise. Of course he would call Marluxia for a quick _chat_ ; Castle Oblivion was not even about a week away, Xemnas wasn't just going to give him the reins to leadership without consulting him first. Just to make sure things don't mix up between here and there.

Marluxia thinks, anyway.

He is watching Roxas—the new Keyblade wielder—when Saix approaches him with news. Clipboard in hand, he fumbles through the papers almost lazily before glancing up at the pink haired man, golden eyes piercing.

"Number XI, you're wanted by Lord Xemnas in his office."

Marluxia tilts his head, confusion written on his features. _Not just anyone_ goes into Xemnas' office. Only a select few, like Xigbar and Saix. This must be a meeting of importance, and secrecy.

"Where will I find his office?"

Saix keeps his disinterested look. "A layer below Vexen's lab. Simply knock. He's already waiting."

Marluxia nods. There's not much else to say, especially between Saix and him. He still wasn't exactly sure where to direct his dark corridor, but persistence with Saix wasn't exactly something anybody in the Organization enjoyed. Too many questions pissed him off, anyway. Without argument, Marluxia opens a dark corridor to what he hopes is the hallway outside of Xemnas' office. The only think he _truly_ knew was that it was below Vexen's lab.

It's a short walk in between the Grey Room and the office. Marluxia finds himself outside of a larger door in a matter of moments, but nothing is defined on it. It doesn't seem important, or extraordinary, but perhaps that's a part of the secret.

The Graceful Assassin raises his arm slowly, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he knocks on the heavy gray door. His hand falls to his side again, and he listens. Everything's extremely quiet down in the lower levels. Vexen's lab, which he has visited once before, usually is quiet, though the walls echo with the quiet mutters of scientific codes and numbers for data and dolls; all No. IV's voice. Somehow this level is even more silenced. No noise seeping through the ceiling from above, no scientific experiments being conducted, no voices uttering. Just pure silence, enough to the point that there's almost this constant ringing in the nothingness.

Marluxia stands still until the door opens in a very automatic fashion. Xemnas stands there, eyes glancing down slightly to meet his. Marluxia is not phased or moved, he just looks right back at him, even giving him partially a smile.

"I was told you wanted to talk."

Xemnas squints. The Assassin's bluntness is surprising, to say the least. Anyone with half a brain would know to not to have such assertiveness when addressing the Superior. He steps aside.

"Come in. Stand beside my desk." The Lord's voice is loud and clear. Ordering. The flowery man hesitates for a moment but he listens, and proceeds inside the dimly lit room. Inside, he can tell it's just a nice sized office. To his right there's a few bookshelves filled with books, unreadable from this distance, and a couch against the wall straight ahead, with Xemnas' desk facing a window on the left. There's only one lamp lighting the room, and it's the one perched on the messy desk. He also picks up that the room smells vaguely of old paper and ink, though it is not at all a terrible scent.

Marluxia makes his way to the desk, following the simple order. He doesn't enjoy _taking_ orders, that's for sure. Hopefully, he won't have to for long, either. Being sent to Castle Oblivion is a good aid to his and Larxene's plan. _Eliminate the 'traitors' who will get in the way._ Now with Roxas in the Organization, and his plan to lure Sora into the castle, he will have the keyblade's power to make his way all the way to the top, and ultimately defeat Xemnas.

At that point, he will be unstoppable.

Xemnas approaches the man slowly. There's an aura about him that Marluxia could almost call scary, but nothing is clenching in the cavity his heart would live in. He is not scared. He just knows that the Superior is a very powerful man. Nothing he couldn't handle, though.

"Number XI. As you know, you have been given orders to leave for Castle Oblivion with five other members next week." Xemnas' eyes are lidded a bit, giving him an almost lustful look, but Marluxia knows it's more of a look full of thought. Eyeing him over, seeing what kind of strength he was facing. Maybe. "You're going to be the head of the group. The...Lord of Castle Oblivion, you may say." The silver haired man steps closer, entering Marluxia's personal bubble. He raises a hand and his gloved fingers gently toy with pink strands of hair, which the Assassin quickly brushes away, his upper lip curling into a grimace. The man now looming over him furrows his brow, bringing his hand back up again a little more forcefully, this time grasping some hair in his palm, tightly. Marluxia hisses through his teeth and throws his hands against Xemnas' broad chest to push him away, but his Superior sees it coming, and he pushes his prisoner back against the desk.

"What I'm saying," Xemnas speaks up again, his voice a deep baritone that's full of poison, daring number XI to move, "Is, that just because I'm placing you in command of that castle…doesn't mean you have any authority here, or over _me._ "

Marluxia's ass hits the desk, the taller man forcing him back enough that he starts to lean against a stack of papers. Their bodies block the lamp from the rest of the room, causing their shadows to ghost over the walls, seemingly making everything a lot darker. Now would be the time an average person would be scared. Cowering in fear, accepting the fact that they were less than men in smaller numbers. Not Marluxia. No, he's a man with an ego. He's a man who's _just as big_ as those deemed "Superior."

Xemnas begins to lean in, as if to kiss him, and this is when Marluxia tries to break from the hold. With all his might he pushes the other man away, resisting the urge to growl from his hair being tugged. Xemnas steps back, not too surprised by the sudden retaliation; a smirk growing on his face. Marluxia reaches outward with one hand, summoning his scythe, a few rose petals arising in its wake. The former chuckles.

"You are a foolish man."

Marluxia darts forward, his arm pulling back, aiming to swing at his current target. Xemnas races to the side, his ethereal blades springing from his hands. Upon seeing Marluxia recover from the failed first swing, he lashes at a wrist, causing number XI to grunt, his scythe flying out of hand. Before he can even think of summoning it back into his grasp, Xemnas has both of his hands, and he's forcefully pushing the now vulnerable Marluxia onto the desk, crashing paper and lamp to the floor.

The lighting's changed now, as the lamp lays tilted on the ground, Marluxia can see the dangerous outline of the Superior's face. His features are a mix of amused and troubled, doubtlessly from the short lived battle. Frustration from having to try, and pleased to know he's about to claim some prey.

This must've happened to other members, surely.

Marluxia starts to ponder how exactly Saix got that scar of his.

No words are traded between them. Instead, the dominant being pushes the other back hard, his body keeping him in place so tightly Marluxia can't even wiggle out of his grasp. Then the pale skin of his neck is met with tanned lips and teeth that bite so hard there's no way there's not going to be a bleeding mark by the end of it. The Graceful Assassin growls angrily, kicking his legs, but the man above him presses his legs against his and pins them to the desk, the edge digging into his thighs. It's painful, and he wishes to retort, but now there's not much he can do.

He takes it as Xemnas marks him again and again. His teeth grind together in disgust, toes curling in his boots. It's _disgusting._ When he feels Xemnas grab both of his wrists in one powerful hand, he feels a shudder travel down his spine in knowing the other hand plans on adventuring.

Xemnas' fingers find the zipper to the latter's cloak. He tugs it down urgently, exposing a pale chest to the cooler air of the office. Blue eyes meet gold, one pair wincing and showing fury, and the other lit with interest—this is just a game to him.

"You need to get off of me," Marluxia warns. Xemnas chuckles, pushing the cloak open, not caring to totally pull it off.

"Are you telling me by now you don't understand that I'm the one who runs things?" Gloved fingers come down and toy with the zipper of Marluxia's pants. The pink haired man grunts in an attempt to thrash his way out of it. Before he knows it, the zipper is down and his pants are shoved down his thighs, along with his boxers. There's something settling in his chest, not fear, but something just like it.

"It would just help you to shut up and deal with it." Xemnas goes after his own cloak now, unzipping it and pulling it open in a similar fashion. Then his pants, he pulls himself out of them and kicks them away, along with his boots, which now sit in a piled mess on the floor. Marluxia's eyes unwillingly glance down, taking in the sight of the Superior's erect member. It's very large and daunting, just like the man who bestows it. Marluxia glances upward again, but then he feels himself being shoved off of the desk and to his knees. Startled, he looks up. He's eye-to-groin with his captor.

He can already taste sourness on his tongue. He cringes, leaning back, his arms above his head now from the firm hold of the wrists.

"Open your mouth," Xemnas orders.

This is degrading.

This is embarrassing.

Marluxia doesn't take orders well.

He refuses.

The extra hand finds Marluxia's hair and he pulls him forward with force, making number XI scoff. "Don't have me make you do it."

Angrily and timidly, pale pink lips part; teeth that were so tightly gnashed together now breaking way. He watches as Xemnas moves his hips closer, bringing the head to his open mouth, then closer again.

"Suck."

Marluxia feels the heated head brush his wet tongue. He shudders, wanting to wretch, but then it's pushed into his mouth, his teeth grazing along the sensitive skin. Slowly, his lips close around it and he bobs his head slightly, a scowl on his face. He doesn't move his tongue, not wanting to please the man any more than he has to. He locks eyes with Xemnas, who's smirking down at him sinisterly. The flower bearer feels pressure on his head again, reassurance— _speed up,_ and he makes a growly sound in the back of his throat of defiance. His hands twist against Xemnas' hold, but then it's tightened.

"You're not doing a very good job of pleasing me."

Marluxia coughs, the sound severely muffled from the appendage in his mouth. His tongue moves, caressing the underside of the other's cock, and he immediately brings his tongue down, disgruntled that it jumped. Xemnas rolls his eyes, knowing this won't be improving.

The silver haired man keeps this going for a minute and a half more before he's pulling Marluxia's head back. Marluxia bites him on the way out, earning him a firm slap to the face.

"You're truly making this worse on yourself."

The Assassin raises his head, hatred burning in his eyes. "I didn't even want it easy, either."

Not impressed again, Xemnas forces him to his feet and pushes him around, throwing him hard against the desk again. This time Marluxia's front meets the cool surface of the top, more papers floating to the floor. Xemnas places his hands on the latter's shoulder blades, keeping him down, smiling with the knowledge of his next action.

"You should have prepared me better, number XI."

Marluxia feels the head of Xemnas' large dick poke at his entrance. He clenches, the sensation foreign and not at all wanted. _He's not the bottom, he's never the bottom. He's never told to do anything he doesn't want to do._ The feeling is back, but this time it's trying to make its way inside, and Marluxia hisses through his teeth, his arms bracing against the desk, nails digging into the surface. It burns; deep, searing, like an open wound, widening more and more to take in the brunt of the penetration, expanding to his girth. His hisses become growls, then groans, verbal and pained, and then the movements cease as Xemnas is fully sheathed. Marluxia's breath is coming out in waves, cut short and pitched. This is a pain he's never experienced before. Perhaps pain he's inflicted on others, but…

"You're taking this smoothly."

Marluxia's fists beat on the desk as he tries to cope with the sensations. "Fuck…"

Xemnas laughs lightly, airily. "Precisely." He pulls out half way, then slams inside, beginning a ruthless pace. Marluxia grunts with each push, the burn not fading. It's almost unbearable, making him move forward, to retract from the attention, but Xemnas fits with him.

This continues for a few minutes, not stopping the constant rhythm, the pain ceaseless. Marluxia's arm hangs over the side of the desk, his fingers brushing against the top of the hot lamp. He pulls his hand back, only to realize it makes a great comeback weapon. Waiting for Xemnas to be unsuspecting, he grabs the body of the lamp and hoists it up, swinging his arm back to hit his Superior. Number I is indeed unprepared, and is struck in the head, the lamp landing hard on the floor and the light shattering. In the darkness they can only see by the distant light of Kingdom Hearts lingering out of the window, and Marluxia barely has enough time to catch his bearings before Xemnas has him up against the wall, defenseless again. He's entered again; his head pushed so hard on the wall he fears it could spring out a migraine.

"Foolish, foolish man…" Xemnas' warm, wavered breath pass Marluxia's ears, lips only a flinch away. He carries on again, this time his nails digging into his sides, despite the gloves in the way. The whole experience is excruciating. It's all about the pleasure of the Superior, and nothing about Marluxia.

Not that Xemnas would want to please Marluxia after he threw a lamp at his head.

Now accepting his fate, it goes somewhat _smoothly_ for the rest of the time. A drag, but he stays there and takes it, nails clawing the wall, breaths coming out like grunts, broken and short. Minutes pass, for what feels like an eternity, until Marluxia notices Xemnas' thrusts becoming stiff, and his once silent breaths sounding like soft moans.

 _Oh no,_ Marluxia thinks. _Please don't cum inside, please don't cum inside—_

Xemnas' hips press deep into the other, his groan seeping out, drawn out as he starts to pump his semen into his submissive man. Marluxia arches inward, grimacing; a nasty shudder wracking his form. He's held to the warm body behind him, made to take it all. He feels weak in the knees; his own length only slightly stiff but not close to resolution.

And he doesn't want to cum, not to this.

When the other is finished, he feels him pull out of him. A warm white syrup runs down his thighs from being unplugged, leaving number XI with the feeling of being unclean. Xemnas starts to dress again, then he's grabbing Marluxia's hair, throwing him towards the door, off-balanced, making the other man tumble to the floor.

"Gather your clothes and get out of here. This is just a warning. If you dare come back with an ego…I'll have a show for you."

The man who once held his head high, laced with rose petals is crumpled on the floor now, his back end leaking an unwanted substance and vengeance fueled. Shakily grabbing his clothes—from exhaustion, not fear—he gathers enough strength to get to his feet, slithering out the door to get dressed out of sight.

When he reaches the grey room again, it's like a breath of fresh air. Saix stands in his usual spot, giving Marluxia a knowing look.

 _You too._

Marluxia turns his head again to face the lounge area, Larxene skipping up to him, her heels clicking. She smiles at him, all unknowing all that just transpired.

"So? How did that go? You've been gone a bit."

His eyes are on hers, but she's not getting anything out of it. He can still feel the warm seed trailing down his thigh.

With a large breath, he huffs, voice quiet so she is the only one to hear. "I can't wait until I can introduce my scythe to his throat."


End file.
